My AFF profile was open for a few months last Summer and early Fall. It’s where I met Leo, as some of you may remember. I have zero recollection whether I met anyone else in person from that site – it’s funny how time erases some people and not others – but there was another man who tried and we simply couldn’t connect.
I never wrote about him, because I never met him. The last interaction was him asking me to meet one weekend morning for coffee, then when I agreed to the time and place he went silent. It was the second or third time it didn’t work due to his flakiness so when he reached out again, I scolded him and said no thank you.
That was enough for him to not try again. Until recently.
Out of the blue, a text: “Hey Ann how have you been?”
“Great” I replied, “but I’m not sure who this is?”
“It’s Gary from AFF. We chatted a while ago but didn’t actually meet, was wondering if you wanted to meet for a coffee?”
Did I? Maybe. I remembered his face, and that at the time he was interesting enough for me to want to meet him. Otherwise, I didn’t have much to go on. Self-employed, but that’s about it.
On the other hand, it had been a long time since he’d tried and I knew it meant I’d somehow cropped up on his phone again as a potential fuck, and likely not much else. Did I care? A little.
But even with my vague interest, I was too busy at the time to reply. Ninety minutes later, he texted again: “are you interested?”
Guys in pursuit mode are so much more communicative.
I told him I was occupied at the moment and asked why he reached out after so long. And no, I didn’t expect a particularly honest answer, but just like in a job interview when asking “what is your biggest weakness”, you still learn something about someone from their response.
He said he’d been travelling for the last many months, but remembered enjoying chatting with me before.
Over the next couple of days we texted. Or better said, he texted me when I took too long to reply. He asked for a pic and I teased he probably forgot what I looked like. I didn’t really care either way. He asked me to unhide my AFF profile for him and I said “no way”.
He said he was looking for someone “easy-going, open-minded, high sex drive, and fun. An ongoing FWB, maybe a relationship down the road.”
I laughed at the add-on at the end, because I think it’s mostly bullshit. He told me he had no FWB’s at the moment, and that he too was “bullshit-free”. When he asked, I was honest about having a couple FWB’s (although it’s not the term I’d use).
I agreed to try to meet up with him shortly afterwards, but work ended up running very late and I wanted a raincheck. He cajoled and tried to convince me that meeting up in sweatpants, with him bringing a bottle of wine, would be romantic. He said he gave good massages.
And my dears, I think I now know all of the tricks in the book. So when I caved, it wasn’t because I really thought he was going to romance me. I did ask for his last name, as a weak form of insurance. But I was too tired and stressed to argue and figured what-the-hell, how bad could it possibly be.
He greeted me at my door with a hug and a sloppy kiss. He had a bottle of wine in hand, and the sad state of dating affairs is that put him up a notch.
He had a warm presence, and was touchy-feely right away. I dodged a few attempts given I didn’t even have a drink in my hand yet. He was talkative, he sat close to me on my couch and I asked him lots of questions about his recent travels.
He’s almost a decade younger. He is tall, conventionally attractive, and interesting. A sporting event played in the background and he touched me frequently. The banter was good and his kisses got better.
Time passed quickly and he started to ask me more and more about dating and “what turns me on”. I’m not inherently comfortable with that question on a first date. It felt contrived and rote, frankly. What turns me on is nuanced, about intellect and physicality and I didn’t know whether Gary was worth me taking my time to explain it to him.
It may sound bitchy, but I sensed he wanted a straightforward answer like “when a guy goes down on me”, and I didn’t want to play along.
But I won’t lie, it was fun to have the adventure of a new lover again. He crushed me against his weight on the couch, my new stomach padding uncomfortably swished between us. Lack of exercise for 4 months has not been my friend. He kissed me (thankfully with better kisses) and put his hand up my shirt and I finally suggested we go to my bedroom.
It wasn’t the best sex I’ve ever had, nor was it the worst. He was nicely aggressive but also tried to contort me into positions so I could keep my mouth on his cock. I’m over 5’9″… I’m flexible but there’s only so much I can squish my spine. I was reminded once again that photo angles are everything when it comes to online pictures.
I almost burst out laughing when, a few seconds after he exclaimed “oh, you’re gonna make me cum!” he whipped off the condom and – I felt nothing. No spurt of cum across my belly. Nothing. (It did occur to me later he may have been faking, but then why go through the bother of pulling off the condom?)
I love that men seem to want to show their work when it comes to sex. “Look at what I made! I made semen!” is what is always seems like to me. Alan and I joked about that – and he was a spectacular cum maker. I, on the other hand, prefer to feel a man cum inside me – I like it when I can feel it when their cocks get bigger just before, or sans condom I can feel the warmth spread, or they shudder and shake inside me. That’s what I like. But hey, you want to cum on my stomach or tits and be proud of what you’ve achieved? Go for it.
I wished the experience was better, but I liked Gary’s energy (I mean that in all aspects) and when I kissed him goodbye, the blog post title “I’ve taken a new lover” flashed in my head. Yes, it happens.
But whether he’s taken me as well has yet to be seen.